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Third Degree - Live

de The Jeff Healey Band

Got me accused of peeping,
I can't see a thing.
Got me accused of petting,
I can't even raise my hand.

Bad luck,
Bad luck is killing me.
Well I just can't stand no more of this third degree.

Got me accused of murder,
I ain't harmed a man.
Got me accused of forgery,
I can't even write my name.

Got me accused of taxes,
I ain't got a dime.
Got me accused of children
And ain't nary one of them was mine.

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